


Sebastian's Twisted Tales : The Three Demon Bears

by Silverwing26, soulless_lover



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Ciel is a brat even as a bear, Dark Comedy, Fairy Tales, Gen, Oh Sebastian, Parody, Podfic, Podfic Available, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, Story within a Story, Twisted Tales, demons and waif and entrails OH MY!, who the hell is the medium sized bear?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian thinks his duties to the young master are over for the evening as he prepares to put him to bed. However, the young master demands a bedtime story. Well, when one asks a demon for a bedtime story, one deserves what he gets.</p><p>
  <b>UPDATE: podfic is now available!</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sebastian's Twisted Tales : The Three Demon Bears

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank you to soulless_lover for beta reading and editing this piece. Also, he has been gracious enough to promise to do a podfic of this story for me. Keep your eyes and ears open.
> 
>  **update:** the podfic can be found [here](http://tindeck.com/listen/gzdl). 
> 
>   _[side note: the jingling in the background is the bell on my cat's collar; in the interest of suspension of disbelief, just imagine it as being a decorative bell on Ciel's stuffed rabbit. yeah. also, imitating Sebastian imitating Ciel's voice was fun as hell. -soulless_lover.]_

“Is Young Master quite comfortable now?”

 _(Yawn.)_ “Yes, relatively so, Sebastian.”

“Well then, I shall wish you a pleasant sleep and see you in the morning.”

“No.” 

“No, Young Master?”

“Stay and talk with me.”

 _(Sigh.)_ “Very well. What shall I talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know, anything, just… oh, tell me a story, or some such.”

“A story?”

“Yes. Surely there must be something in that ancient brain of yours to talk about. Aren't you something like nine _thousand_ years old?”

“A fairytale, then?”

“I suppose. But make it interesting, will you?” 

“Yes, my lord. Well, then…

Once upon a time, a very long time ago – unless, of course, you are me, and then it isn't all that long ago at all – there was a curly-haired blonde waif of a girl. Now this girl, being of rather less than average intelligence, decided not to bring a proper map with her as she wandered alone through a dark forest… so, unsurprisingly, she found herself lost. When she managed to stumble upon a well-kept cottage, the waif, having criminal tendencies, decided to let herself in uninvited, and have a look about. 

Now, wandering lost around the woods like a twit for hours on end leaves one with quite a hunger… or so I am to understand. Who wanders about in an unfamiliar forest without a map, honestly? Well, she _wandered_ her way into a little dining room where there were three bowls of rather suspect food set upon the table. Naturally, this foolish blonde was about as sensible as a brick, so she took a bite from the largest bowl, immediately felt ill, and turned a rather appealing shade of green. The waif then took a bite from the medium-sized bowl, and of course found it just as unpalatable as the first. In an _extreme_ act of foolishness, she thought, ‘Well, I am hungry and this can't be any worse than the other two bowls, and it _is_ the smallest one,’ so she ate the entire bowlful. It was, of course, just as rancid to her as the first two, and her pallor progressed to a lovely pea soup green from the chartreuse it had been previously.

She thought perhaps she should lie down for a bit, and walked into the well-kept, lovely little parlor. There she found three chairs, the first being very large; she thought to herself that she could have a lie-down in a chair that large, so she climbed up into the oversized seat and found it was terribly hard. Of course, the young... _lady_... was quite hard-headed and might be considered to be one of those people who thinks with her – well, I shan't be so crass as to say that aloud, but I am certain you can deduce what I am getting at. Honestly now... who voluntarily sleeps in a chair? So, sliding out of the largest chair, her unseemly large feet hit the floor and she made her way to the medium-sized chair. She climbed up into it and wiggled uncomfortably, finding it to be far too lumpy; of course, it might just have been that her posterior was that lumpy - we cannot be sure. So with a very unladylike huff, she climbed out of the medium-sized chair and sat herself down in the smallest one. She found this chair to be exceedingly comfortable, but she _had_ been rather letting herself go these last few months, and the chair shattered beneath her. 

‘Well,’ she thought as she pulled herself up from the floor, ‘perhaps there are beds upstairs.’ Sleeping in a bed, imagine that. What a novel concept. So the blonde waif climbed the stairs to the tidy little bedroom where she discovered three neatly-made-up beds. With great, inelegant effort, she hoisted herself into the large bed. However, she found it to be oh so very itchy, and she quickly got out again. Of course, it might have just been the fleas, you know. We cannot be sure. So, still tired, she slid herself into the medium-sized bed. This bed she found to be far too hot. Personally, I think she was merely feverish from the _brilliant_ decision to eat a whole bowl of rather suspect food from some stranger’s home, which she had broken into in the first place… but I suppose we just don't know. Well, she wormed her way into the third and smallest bed, found it perfectly comfortable, and fell asleep almost immediately. 

Now, as the dull-as-a-brick criminal blonde waif slept, the owners of the cottage returned home, and three black bears with pitch-black feathered wings, long black claws and glowing red eyes let themselves into their dark, beautiful, _tidy_ little cottage. 

Being very hungry, the three demon bears went to the table to eat. ‘Who's been eating my entrails?!’ asked the largest demon bear. 

‘I don't know, I wasn't here!’ exclaimed the medium-sized demon bear. ‘But someone has been eating _my_ entrails! Who could it have been?’

‘Oh, shut _up_!’ said the smallest demon bear, before grabbing his bowl. ‘Oi! Someone has been eating my entrails, and they have eaten them all up! Make me some more! And while you are doing that, I think I shall go have a sit-down.’

So the littlest demon bear stalked out of the dining room and into the little parlor. ‘Oi!’ he called, and the other two demon bears poked their heads into the room. 

The largest demon bear walked over to his chair. ‘Who's been sitting in my chair?!’

The medium-sized demon bear scoffed. ‘I don't know, I wasn't here. But who has been sitting in _my_ chair?!’

The littlest demon bear rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, shut up, don't be daft – how should I know, I wasn't here! But someone has sat in my chair and broken it to pieces! Repair it this instant!’ he demanded. ‘And while you are doing that, I suppose I shall go and have a lie-down.’

So the smallest demon bear climbed the dark staircase to the bedroom on the second floor. ‘Oi!’ he called down the stairs. ‘You should come have a look at this.’

The largest demon bear climbed the stairs and walked over to his bed. ‘Someone has been sleeping in my bed!’

‘How do you know?’ asked the medium-sized demon bear. 

‘Well, the fleas are all upset.’

The medium-sized demon bear looked at his bed and exclaimed, ‘Someone has been sleeping in my bed!’

‘How do you know?’ asked the largest demon bear.

‘Well, we do seem to have a running theme… I was just sort of assuming it would continue.’

The smallest demon bear rolled his eyes, and then crossed his arms with a dignified huff. ‘Someone has been sleeping in my bed… and she's still there!’

When the blonde waif awoke, it was to the image of three pairs of glowing red eyes staring down at her. Now, I imagine you are waiting to hear how she lived happily ever after; however, all I can tell you is that all they found of the foolish criminal waif was a single shoe and few strands of blonde hair. 

However… that night, the littlest demon bear had a meal of extremely _fresh_ entrails.

Let’s see now, how does one conclude a bedtime story? Ah, yes.

The end.”


End file.
